Suddenly Last Summer #20

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Suddenly Last Summer #20 Page 9

by Melissa J Morgan


  “And these are some incredible ladies you have here,” Billy added. “They came to Us with fantastic ideas—not the other way around. They’re hard workers, too. It’s been our pleasure to help them out.”

  Nat felt a warm feeling spreading through her insides. It was hard not to feel proud—both of herself for coming up with the idea and of her bunkmates for being so creative and smart with their contributions. For the first time, Nat felt like this protest might work.

  Dr. Steve regarded them with a look of pleasant surprise. He kept looking from the girls to the band and back to the girls. Finally he cleared his throat.

  “Okay.”

  The room was suddenly filled with shrieks, high fives, and peals of laughter. Natalie felt like her chest might explode, she was so relieved and excited at the same time.

  “Is it okay if they come rehearse with us?” Nat asked. “I mean, not every day, but Todd said they could come the day before the protest.”

  Dr. Steve nodded. “That sounds fair,” he agreed. “I’ll leave a note at the camp entrance that these young men are our guests for the day.”

  “Omigod!” Priya cried, turning to hug Nat.

  “Omigod!” Candace echoed. “We’re actually doing this!”

  Dr. Steve held up his hand. “Some ground rules,” he went on. “You’ll get the buses for four hours on Friday afternoon. Your counselors and CITs will go with you, as will I. You can spread the word to the other 6-level campers and CITs, and they can participate if they like. The younger kids will stay here.”

  Brynn nodded furiously. “Okay, that’s all okay.”

  “And kids,” Dr. Steve added, “I want to stress that I don’t know anything that you don’t. Your protest seems like it will be very fun and creative, but I don’t know whether it will work. I want you to know that going in—this is a good effort, but it’s no guarantee.”

  Sloan nodded. “We understand all that,” she replied. “And of course if camp still closes, we’ll take it as it comes. But I, for one, believe in our protest! Power to the people! The little people can change the minds of the big!”

  Nat raised her fist in the air, along with several of her bunkmates. “Power to the people!” she shouted, then laughed.

  Things were definitely looking up.

  chapter NINE

  “Okay, guys!” Brynn shouted even though she was panting for breath. “That was awesome! Let’s just try it one more time, same energy! Come on!”

  Jenna sighed and tried to coax some energy back into her arms and legs. Her whole body felt like overcooked spaghetti, and she would have given just about anything to collapse into one of the chairs in the audience of the auditorium and take a three-hour nap. They’d been rehearsing the protest for two hours with the band, and they’d rehearsed on their own all day yesterday, rewriting their songs and changing the melodies to be bouncier and more upbeat. The rewrites seemed to be really working, and even Jenna had to admit that the last few songs had sounded amazing. But she was so tired.

  Just then, a hand raised out of the sea of campers—lots of CITs and 6-level campers had taken the opportunity to join the protest—and a familiar, nasally voice cut through the din of low conversations.

  “Brynn,” Lainie called. “Brynn. Don’t you think that last verse is a little awkward? If instead of, ‘We’ll get you with our mad rappelling skills,’ we said, ‘We’ll get you with our mad ropes course skills,’ then we could do a little pantomime, like we’re climbing on the ropes course.”

  Lainie paused and did a little pantomime climbing, like she was the world’s blondest spider. Jenna sighed.

  “That’s cute, Lainie,” Brynn replied, “but I think I like it better the other way. Let’s start again.”

  Todd and Billy glanced at each other, and the band launched into the song’s intro.

  “Hold on, hold on!” Lainie cried, waving her arms around. “Jeez! What does a girl need to do to get taken seriously around here? It’s so hard to be an artist.” She glanced down at Todd with a little conspiratorial smile, like he must understand what she meant.

  Brynn set her mouth in a tight line. “What’s the problem, Lainie?”

  “The problem,” Lainie replied, “is that I know you wrote these lyrics and whatever, but the simple fact is, my line is better.” She looked around at the campers surrounding her and spread her arms in an Am I right? gesture. “Right? Who’s with me?”

  A dull murmur settled over the crowd as they started to argue—half for Lainie’s change, half against.

  “It’s definitely better,” a skinny redheaded boy named Jonah said, sending a lovelorn smile in Lainie’s direction.

  “Yeah,” Kelsey, another CIT, piped up. “You guys are all about power to the people, but who are the people? Don’t we all get a say?”

  Jenna sighed. The rehearsal had been going like this ever since Lainie had shown up for the first time this morning. “I heard your protest is worthy of my help now,” she’d announced, and, just like that, flitted in and acted like she’d been right there and part of it the whole time. Lainie spent half her time trying to flirt with the band members—who, Jenna noted, all had serious girlfriends—and the other half coming up with ridiculous ways to “improve” the songs they’d been rehearsing for two days now.

  Brynn looked livid. “It’s not that big a deal,” she insisted. “Can we just sing the lyric as is, like we’ve rehearsed it five hundred times?”

  Lainie rolled her eyes. “Ohhhh,” she said. “I get it. We did it this way before, so it has to stay this way? There’s no room for improvement in my brilliant creation?” She tossed her hair and looked thoughtful. “Actually,” she went on, “is ‘Campfire Bliss’ even the right name for this song? What about ‘Summer Love’ or ‘Kisses by the Campfire‘?”

  A murmur went through the crowd as everyone felt the need to discuss Lainie’s suggestions. Brynn looked so angry, Jenna thought she could see steam coming out of her ears. This was bad. Lainie was derailing rehearsals in a big way. But what could stop her?

  Suddenly Jenna had an idea.

  “Actually,” Jenna spoke up, and everyone startled, surprised to hear a voice from the back. “I don’t think it was Brynn who came up with that lyric. I think it was . . . Todd, wasn’t it?”

  Todd looked at Jenna, surprised. Actually, the lyric was one hundred percent Brynn’s, but Todd seemed just as frustrated as Jenna was about the constant back and forth with Lainie. More than once over the course of the afternoon he had begged, “Can’t we just get on with it?”

  Now Jenna caught his eye and gave a little nod—like, Oh, yes, yes, it was.

  Todd started nodding, too. “Um, yes,” he responded. “That was my lyric, yes, and I’m very attached to it.”

  Lainie looked stunned.

  “Actually,” Jenna continued, “I think Todd was saying earlier that’s his favorite lyric in all the songs. And if someone changed it, he would probably, like, cry or something.”

  Todd looked a little taken aback now. He glanced at Jenna like, Laying it on a little thick, are we? But he said, “Yes, definitely. I would cry,” and turned back to his guitar.

  “Oh,” Lainie said softly, looking a little sheepish. “Well, never mind, then. I would never want to upset you. You know what? Your lyric is way better.” She pasted on a big, flashy smile. “Let’s rehearse it again.”

  Just as Todd played the opening chord, though, the door opened and in walked a face Jenna hadn’t seen for days: David. When she’d grabbed him at lunch the day before, he’d claimed he had just been “really busy” and hadn’t had any free time to help with the protest the last couple days. But Jenna knew him better than anyone, and she knew he’d been avoiding her.

  Jenna made a quick gesture to Brynn and hopped off the stage. I’m going to take five, she mouthed to her friend, who just nodded and turned back to the assembled chorus. Jenna kept walking down the aisle through the audience until she reached David, who looked like he wasn’t sure how he
felt to see her.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  “Hey,” he echoed, looking from her face to his feet.

  Jenna took a deep breath. “Listen,” she said. “I said some things the other day that—”

  David shrugged. “No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” he said. But he was still staring at the floor with an expression like someone had just run over his puppy. “If that’s how you really feel.”

  Jenna paused, biting her lip. That was the thing, though, wasn’t it? If that’s how you really feel? More and more today, she was wondering about that.

  “That’s the thing,” Jenna said, and was surprised to hear her voice crack a little. “I, um . . . I don’t know if I really felt the way I said.”

  David looked up. “Huh?”

  Jenna sighed. “I mean, when I said I didn’t care about camp closing . . .” She trailed off and felt tears burning behind her eyes. “I guess in the last few days, I’m realizing I really do care,” she said. “I mean, I always cared, I think. Maybe I was just trying to pretend I didn’t to keep from feeling it. You know?”

  David shook his head. “Um, no.”

  Jenna sighed again. “I mean, the thing is—now that the protest is going well and really happening—I think that I really care.” She paused. “I feel like we have a real shot, which is actually kind of scary. Because what if we don’t? Then I’ll get disappointed, you know?”

  David looked at her carefully, nodding. “I guess.”

  “Andthat’s the scariest thing I can think of,” Jenna went on. “To think that I could believe it’s all going to be okay and then suddenly have to deal with losing all of it—losing camp. Losing my friends. Losing”—and here her voice cracked again, and she felt a tear slip out —“yoU . . .”

  “Hey, hey.” David moved closer and then pulled Jenna into a hug. “You won’t lose me. You’ll never lose me. We’ll still see each other.” He paused. “You’ll be fifty and thinking, like, ‘When am I gonna get rid of this guy?’ But I’ll still be there.”

  Jenna had started sobbing, but she laughed then. “Okay. If you say so.” She paused and pulled away. “It’s going to be tough, though, Dave. If camp closes . . .”

  “I know.” David nodded. “I’ve been thinking about nothing else since Dr. Steve made his announcement. But we’ll figure something out.”

  Jenna nodded, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. She leaned toward David and they hugged again. “I was never okay with losing you,” she said quietly. “You know that, right?”

  “I know.” David squeezed her in a hug, then gently pulled away. “Now let’s go! We have a protest to rehearse.”

  A few minutes later, everyone—even Brynn and the band members—was up onstage. Todd struck an opening chord, and Jenna felt herself start bouncing up and down in anticipation. They were rehearsing the final song of the protest, the rewritten “We Love Camp.” With the help of Judy Renaissance, the campers had turned it into a bouncy, totally fun number, the kind of song you just couldn’t stay still to. Todd had helped Brynn write some funny lyrics to the verses, which the campers all shouted to the beat as they bounced around. Singing this number was the most fun Jenna had had since the camp’s closing had been announced.

  “Bug juice by day

  Prank wars by Night

  You don’t have to tell me

  I know this feels right.”

  Jenna and David bounced wildly, shouting the lyrics and dancing around each other. Jenna caught Nat’s eye as she danced with Logan, and they shared a smile. All around her, Jenna’s bunkmates were grooving, bouncing, having the time of their lives. Jenna smiled. It was the perfect end to the protest. Even if it didn’t work and Camp Lakeview still closed, this was exactly how she wanted to remember her friends.

  “We love camp!

  We love camp!

  Save Camp Lakeview!”

  “That’s a wrap!” Todd shouted.

  chapter TEN

  “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” Sloan sported a grin from ear to ear as she and the rest of 6B lined up in front of Camp Lakeview’s ancient green school bus. “I just can’t believe the day is really here!”

  Tori smiled. She had to admit, it was pretty exciting to finally be getting on the bus to Harrisburg. A little part of her had trouble believing it, too—that after all the bickering and the hard work and the struggle, they were really going to bring their protest to the state congress.

  About thirty campers and CITs had joined the protest, enough to fill one bus. Dr. Steve was riding along with them, eager to see his campers in action. The members of Judy Renaissance were driving to the state capitol separately, and the plan was for everyone to meet them at the protest site right in front of the statehouse.

  “Believe it,” said Jenna. “This is it, guys. We have to give it everything we have because this is our big shot!”

  The line was moving incredibly slowly, but finally Tori and her bunkmates climbed onto the warm, musty bus. They walked down the aisle until they got to the last open rows, and then they started filing in. Tori watched as Nat slid into a seat and placed her faux Louis Vuitton purse on the other side. “I’m saving it for Logan,” she told Jenna, who just shrugged and slid into the row across. Of course. Tori slid in next to Jenna, telling herself she wasn’t even going to think about the Nat thing today. Today was all about energy and good vibes.

  When everyone was finally seated, Dr. Steve stood at the front of the bus. “Are we ready, campers?” he asked, his arms spread wide and his face arranged in a crazy, eager grin.

  “Ready!” Tori shouted, along with her thirty cohorts.

  “Then let’s go!” Dr. Steve gave the signal to the driver, who started up the bus—a noisy affair—and slowly turned around the circle drive and toward the camp exit.

  As they drove through the narrow wooded streets that made up the area around Camp Lakeview, Tori felt herself relax. This was really happening. They were really about to try to save their camp, and it was partly because of her.

  Tori leaned back and rested her eyes. The dappled sun coming through the trees and the rhythmic groan of the bus’s ancient engine made her sleepy. Within a few short minutes, she had fallen into a dream, where she was on a car trip with her parents and driving through a weirdly familiar landscape. She looked down at the road and found that it was made of logs, like the cabins at Camp Lakeview. Then she realized with a start that they were driving on the cabins. She tried to say something to her parents, but they had the radio turned up loud and couldn’t hear her. Soon they were driving toward the lake, and Tori cringed as she realized that her father planned to drive right into the water! But just as they got to the lake’s edge, a bridge appeared under them. Tori looked at the sign posted on the bridge’s railing. HIGHWAY 101, it read. NEXT EXIT: FREE SWIM, ½ MILE.

  “Guys, I want to get out!” she shouted at her parents. “I need to get out of this car! I want to be at camp!”

  This time her mother turned around, a confused expression on her face. “What do you mean, Tori?” she asked, her brow furrowed. “There is no Camp Lakeview anymore. It’s all over . . .”

  “It’s over,” Jenna’s voice broke into Tori’s dream.

  Tori blinked awake. They weren’t on the peaceful country roads around Camp Lakeview anymore. Now they were on a huge interstate highway—or more specifically, on the side of a huge interstate highway.

  The bus’s engine let out a huge cough, rocking all of the campers. Then it made a sound like a sigh and fell silent.

  “What?” Tori asked, rubbing her eyes and turning to Jenna. “What’s going on?”

  Jenna frowned, looking toward the front of the bus. “You missed it,” she said. “As soon as we got on the highway, the bus started making these crazy coughing noises.”

  Tori blinked. “Okay. And?”

  “And it sounded like it just gave out altogether,” Jenna went on, her voice getting strained. “And that’s bad because .
. .”

  Tori sat straight up in her seat. “How far are we from Harrisburg?” she asked.

  “About half an hour,” Gaby replied, turning around in the seat in front of them. “Close enough to taste it, too far to walk, basically.”

  Tori felt her stomach sink. “I’m sure the driver will be able to fix it,” she said, trying to keep her enthusiasm up.

  All around her, though, campers were exchanging worried glances. The celebratory vibe from earlier was gone, replaced by uncomfortable silence and nervous whispers.

  “This can’t be happening,” Brynn wailed from the seat across the aisle. “After all the trouble we had just getting the protest together, the stupid bus breaks down?”

  Tori glanced out the window, where the driver had disappeared under the bus. Cars were whizzing by them, making a whoosh, whoosh, whoosh sound. As she watched the cars going by, she wished she were in any one of them right then, happily on her way to her destination.

  Dr. Steve, who had gone outside, said something to the driver and then climbed back onto the bus. “Kids,” he announced, “we’re having a little trouble with the engine. But Ed is doing everything within his power to try to fix it. For now, just sit tight.”

  He got off the bus again, and Tori checked her watch. It was eleven twenty. The protest was supposed to start at noon, to coincide with the congresspeople’s lunch hour. It would take half an hour to get there, which meant they had about . . . ten minutes to fix this and still be on time.

  Thunk. Clang. Tori heard a muffled curse word as the driver, Ed, shifted under the bus.

  This wasn’t looking good.

  “What time is it?” Jenna turned over Tori’s wrist, frowning deeply when she saw the time. “Wow. Um . . .”

  “Yeah. It’s not good,” Tori said tensely. Around them, Brynn and Priya were deep into a game of rock, paper, scissors, and Nat and Logan were engaged in an increasingly violent tic-tac-toe tournament. Jenna had tried to interest Tori in a game, but Tori felt way too tense. She checked her watch every ten seconds. The driver, Ed, was still under the bus, and according to Dr. Steve’s last update, there was no progress to report.

 

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